Cry
by Chelle-Lynn
Summary: Lily sees James on the grounds a cold day in September  seventh year , and the meeting changes their relationship forever.


**A/N: **I wrote this several years ago (back in 2005, actually), and I was editing my profile and realized that I hadn't ever edited or uploaded it. This is the story in basically its raw form. I did have a friend look over it for me, but I didn't change anything from his advice, and obviously didn't incorporate it into my long fics. This is loosely based on the Mandy Moore song "Cry". Of course, I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, nor did I have any input into the song "Cry". This is just my creative interpretation of the two.

.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.

Late September. The time of year that officially brings an end to summer, and begins the period of death that winter brings each year. The birds all head south for the winter, leaving the area without their chipper tunes. The crickets stop their midnight serenades, and the frogs no longer croak, but battle for warmth against the chilly winds that replace the light summer breezes. The leaves loose their green, changing instead into various shades of crimson, gold, and ginger, while falling into a crumpled heap on the ground, resulting in the trees becoming bare. The rain, if it is indeed rain and not snow, becomes cold and unforgiving, pushing the warm, pleasant rains further south with the birds. The sky becomes a permanent shade of gray, and the sun no longer fills the air with warmth.

To most people, autumn is depressing. To me, though, it's different. I understand that there are cycles in all things, and the death of everything during fall only promises that things will become that much more beautiful in the spring. It has its own beauty as well, as any artist looking at the leaves blowing carelessly in the wind will tell you.

That's what I did that fateful day in September. I can't remember the exact date, only that I was enjoying the beauty of the grounds that afternoon. Most of my friends and classmates were bundled up in their common rooms, sipping hot chocolate and giggling at the various stories being told while they wait for it to warm up, or snow. That day, though, I wanted to get away from the stressful atmosphere that the castle had had since classes began on September first. I had been named Head Girl that year, which only added more headaches to the already stressful year, for this year was the year we had to take NEWTs, and the power of Lord Voldemort threatened many of our families, including my own. Luckily, there was a beacon of hope set out for me, and I found it in a package of tears that day. I will never forget it.

.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.

The doors out of the Entrance Hall creaked eerily as I shut them behind me, shivering slightly at the sudden cold. It was after lunch, and most of the school was curled up in the common rooms, talking merrily with friends. I sank deeper into my robes, and slowly slipped on my gloves, knowing I would be grateful later for such a precaution. I slowly made my way across the grounds to the edge of the lake, finding shelter under a large oak that had lost many of its leaves already. I smiled as I remembered the countless times my friends had come out and studied on the 'good weather' days of early September and the spring, often not getting much studying done. I slowly ran my hands over my arms, trying to keep all the heat I could without needing to go back into the castle. I gently pressed my back against the tree and shut my eyes, breathing in the slightly sweet smell of decay that I loved in the fall.

I'm not sure how long I stayed like that, just absorbing the rustle of the leaves as the wind blew them against the water, or the creaking of the Whomping Willow not far from where I stood, or even the soft lapping of water as the Giant Squid tossed and turned in the lake. Soon enough, though, another sound met my ears: one of heavy breathing. My eyes snapped open as soon as I identified the sound, and my hand instinctively reached for my wand. I attempted to walk around the large tree without making a sound, but failed miserably as a twig snapped under my foot with a loud crack. Wincing at the noise, I listened as the breathing became softer and more even, and a soft voice spoke.

"Who's there?" I didn't dare move, and couldn't identify the voice, other than knowing it was obviously a man speaking. There was a light rustling before I felt a soft pressure on my shoulder. Whipping around and pointing my wand in front of me, my fearful eyes quickly met large hazel ones.

"Potter! Do you normally sneak up on girls like that?" I gasped, lowering my wand and pressing a hand against my chest, hoping to still my rapidly beating heart.

Instead of responding, he simply shook his head and waved his hand at me, as if dismissing me like a servant. He lowered his eyes and walked past me to the far side of the tree and sat down, leaving me standing there, staring at the spot he stood only moments before, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had never dismissed me like that, let alone refused to talk.

I slowly turned around and followed him, staring at him incredulously when I came up to him. He had one leg pulled up to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him, and he was leaning back on the tree just staring out into the beyond. I glanced at the sky when I heard a soft rumbling in the distance. Rain was coming, and probably soon.

"Lily," he said finally. "You should get inside. You could catch cold."

"Don't be ridiculous. I am a witch. I can cast a warming spell if it gets too cold. Why'd you sneak up on me?" I asked.

"I wasn't sneaking up on you. I came out to think. I _can_ do that, you know." The coldness of his voice didn't escape my notice and I cringed slightly, though I had heard the same coldness time and time again. Each time I turned him down.

"I never said you couldn't."

"And I _did_ ask who was there. You just never answered me." He continued to stare at the darkening sky, as if willing the rain to come more quickly, probably so I would leave.

I stayed quiet for a while, just looking at him, trying to take in what was on his mind. It was useless though. He had a wall put up around him, and there was no use trying to find a way in. I don't know why I cared so much. James had always been cold and distant, even when trying to win me over. And working with him this year only made him seem more cold and distant.

I think he got frustrated at me for just staring at him, because he looked me right in the eye and spoke with a powerful voice. "Just leave, will you? Obviously you don't want to talk to me, and I don't want to talk to you either, so why are you still here?"

I involuntarily took a step back and stared into his eyes. They were glistening ever so slightly, filled with mountains of pain. Why? I'm not sure. I'm sure my voice wavered when I spoke, but I didn't notice. "You're a mystery to me, Potter. One minute you're the most carefree person in the world, messing around with your friends, and the next you're all bottled up, as if you don't want anyone to know you. I've known you for 6 years and all that I know is that you like to make people laugh. I know there's more to you than that, I just can't figure out what it is."

"Just leave," he said in a soft voice, and turned away from me.

"No," I said just as softly and took a place next to him on the cold ground, bringing both legs up to my chest for warmth. I heard him mumble something that sounded oddly like 'stubborn' but I didn't move, and he didn't speak. I studied him for a while longer, examining his tense jaw and the lack of softness in his features at this moment. He had long since slipped back into his own mind, not caring whether I was there or not.

Slowly, I saw a soft trail of wetness form on his cheek, and the realization that he was crying hit my like a ton of bricks. The wall he had put up was crumbling before me, and slowly his features aged, became more distressed and wrinkled, though beneath it all, he still had the look of a seventeen year old boy. I wanted to make it better for him, but somehow I knew that I didn't have to.

"Don't tell anyone," he said unnecessarily. I looked at him for a moment and turned to face the forest, as the first drops of rain hit my head through the branches over us.

"Your secret's safe with me," I mumbled, feeling somehow at peace. I had never seen a man cry before, and I thought at that moment the burden each had to carry, sealing up their emotions from the rest of the world. I had just taken part of that burden off his shoulders, and it felt right.

He looked at me and I saw our future together. I wasn't sure if it would be as friends or lovers, but it didn't matter. Forever was in his eyes, and that's all that mattered to me.

.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.

That day we each made a silent agreement to meet under the tree when either of us was feeling down. We never talked, just sat in each other's company. It helped both of us, especially as the world around us got darker and more threatening, and when school life became too stressful. Slowly our pact turned into a friendship, and we had learned to talk to each other as friends. By Christmas, I trusted him with my life, and by February, we had become so much more than friends. I didn't interfere with his life, and he told me things when I was ready. I learned more from him that year than I learned in my entire life.

To think that I met the love of my life six years after we saw each other for the first time on the train to Hogwarts is staggering. The fact that I recognized him through a tear made it all that more special. James gave me the hope I needed to get through the next few years, the hope that one day the war would be over and we could all live in peace. Unfortunately, neither of us will see that world in our living days. However, we will be watching over our son Harry and smiling down on him as he helps this world form.

And now, each time a tear falls, he feels it, in the form of water falling from a dark gray sky, just like it did on that September day.

.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, and don't forget to hit that review button. I love feedback, of any form. Though if you flame me, you best beware. The writer's pen is far sharper than a sword.


End file.
